Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Faribault Festival offers opportunity to bridge differences & connect August 23, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:15 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

TODAY I’D LIKE TO EXTEND an invitation to you. Pull out your calendars right now and add this event to your schedule: International Festival Faribault, 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. on Saturday, August 25, Central Park.

Several Latinos lead in singing of Mexico’s national anthem last September during the International Festival Faribault at Faribault’s Central Park. The flags strung across the band shell represent the countries featured at the fest. This weekend’s celebration marks the seventh such international fest in Faribault.

There. Done. Right?

The scramble for candy after the pinata is broken at last year’s festival. Kids of all races participated with no concern for skin color or cultural differences. So refreshing to see.

Served at the 2011 fest: Guatemalan chuchitos– chicken, corn and salsa wrapped in a corn husk. You’ll find vendors offering a variety of authentic international foods.

OK, why do I think it’s important for you to attend this festival which features multicultural entertainment, arts and crafts vendors, authentic international cuisine, kids’ activities, a silent auction and more?

Simple. We as a community need to meet each other, to connect on a personal level, to understand each other if we are ever to overcome the very obvious cultural differences which divide us.

I met then 16-year-old Riyaam, an Owatonna High School student, at last year’s festival. She spoke openly about the prejudice at OHS and a white student’s single comment, “Somalis don’t belong here,” which led to racial clashes and tension. OHS has since instituted a policy of “you fight, you’re out.” It broke my heart to listen to Riyaam.

You know what I’m talking about, the differences in skin color and language, in culture and in dress.

There’s way too much suspicion and mistrust, cautiousness and prejudice toward the minorities living and working in Faribault. I’ve heard the derogatory comments about the Somali men who hang out on downtown street corners, the Hispanics who commit all the crimes, the immigrants who take away our jobs, the people who don’t speak English.

Seriously, these Somali men live downtown and the sidewalk is their yard.

“Mexicans,” and I’ve heard that word spit out of too many mean mouths, do not commit all the crimes in our community. Do you know any Hispanics personally? I do. They are probably the most family-oriented individuals I’ve ever met and we could learn a lot from them about the importance they place on loving and caring for one another.

And about those Somalis and/or Sudanese who supposedly steal our jobs—I expect most of us would not want to work the factory jobs they work. I mean no offense to the places which employ them, like the local turkey plant. But if we are honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that we likely never would work at these physically-demanding and not always pleasant jobs.

As for speaking English, have you, as an adult, tried learning a new language? Now attempt learning a new language in a foreign country. Not so easy. Think back to a few generations before you. I bet your great grandparents didn’t speak English. Even my own mother’s first language was German, not English.

The other evening while shopping at a local Big Box retailer, I witnessed how difficult it was for a Hispanic woman to communicate due to her limited English. I almost got on my cell phone to call my second daughter who works as a Spanish medical interpreter in eastern Wisconsin to ask her to interpret.

Did you know that, according to the 2010 U.S. Census, 17.4 percent of Faribault’s 23,352 residents have a language other than English spoken at home? Stats show 9.4 percent of our city’s residents are foreign-born.

Vendors, like Riyaam, peddled their wares at the 2011 festival.

Instead of criticizing those who speak and dress and live differently than the majority of us, let’s begin to understand them. Mostly, I think, our misconceptions, our prejudices, are based on fear. We fear what we don’t understand.

A young girl’s henna stained foot, photographed at the 2011 fest.

International Festival Faribault offers a common, public ground—a city park—on which to meet the minority individuals who call our community home. They are here to stay. Let’s get to know them. Engage in conversation. Show them you care, that you’re genuinely interested in learning more about them and their cultures. Once you’ve connected on a personal level, you will begin to view them as individuals and not by the color of their skin, the clothing they wear, the language they speak…

Xafsa, age 5, photographed at the 2011 festival.

FYI: Click here to link to the International Festival Faribault website.

While this post is directed specifically at the residents of my community, its content can apply to many communities. You’re all invited to Faribault for International Festival Faribault, no matter your community or country of origin. And just to be clear, many Faribault residents and organizations embrace the minorities who call our southeastern Minnesota city home. I in no way intend to mislead you into thinking we are all a bunch of bigots living here. However, neither am I going to hide the fact that obvious prejudices exist and are very much a concern in Faribault.

Click here to link to the post I wrote about last year’s International Festival Faribault.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating a vintage Dairy Queen sign in Janesville August 22, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:05 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

ICE CREAM. It has to be the single treat with the most universal appeal. And I expect Dairy Queen rates as the company most universally known for its soft-serve ice cream.

With 6,000 plus Dairy Queens throughout the world, this fast food franchise certainly has established itself as a dominating presence since the first DQ opened in 1940 in Joliet, Illinois.

The Dairy Queen along old U.S. Highway 14 in Janesville on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Within 40 miles of my home are 35 Dairy Queens, including two right here in Faribault, and a walk-up DQ along old U.S. Highway 14 in Janesville some 30 miles away.

On a recent Sunday afternoon while passing through Janesville, located east of Mankato and with a population of about 2,100, I photographed the DQ. I wasn’t hungry, having just eaten too much at a church potluck. But I didn’t let that keep me from stopping at the DQ to photograph this long-time business with the vintage signage.

The vintage Dairy Queen sign that drew me to the Janesville DQ.

It’s the sign that caused me to stop because, well, I like and appreciate old signs as works of art. They’re also classic, charming cultural and historic icons in a community.

I was a bit dismayed, though, when the woman working the counter suggested that once the lights fizzle on the sign, it will be replaced with a newer, more modern DQ sign because, really, who could fix the lighting?

I insisted that shouldn’t happen and may have pleaded a bit. “You can’t do that.”

But she seemed resigned to the sign’s eventual replacement.

On the bottom edge of the sign, I noticed LEROY SIGN REG.

Not so fast. I noticed LEROY SIGN REG printed along the lower edge of the DQ sign. That was just enough for me to google the company and track down the sign’s origin with Leroy Signs & Manufacturing of Brooklyn Park.

After viewing a photo I took of the Janesville sign, Ralph Leroy “Lee” Reiter III told me it dates back to the late 1940s or early 1950s and is one of about 50 made by his grandfather, Ralph Leroy Reiter, Sr. While the younger Reiter doesn’t know exactly how many of these specific signs were placed in Minnesota, he says his third-generation company recently refurbished one in Columbia Heights and he knows of one in Robbinsdale and another in Brooklyn Park.

I was especially pleased to learn that the 75-year-old family business he co-owns with siblings Kaj Reiter and Andria Reiter can replace the neon lighting and otherwise refurbish the porcelain enamel finished vintage DQ sign.

On the other side of the DQ, looking toward downtown Janesville.

Lee Reiter has high praise for the condition of the Janesville DQ sign. “It’s one of the cleanest I’ve seen and in really good condition.”

He observed, though, that the sign may have been touched up some. You could fool me. The sign as designed decades ago—DQ designed and Leroy Sign made the sign—allowed it to take in water, Lee noted.

Early on in DQ’s history, Leroy Signs made signs for DQ, last doing so about five years ago.

As for that vintage DQ sign in Janesville, Lee says if the owner ever wants to get rid of it, he’ll take it. That, in itself, should tell you something, don’t you think?

You know you’re in a rural town when you see a combine driving down the street like this John Deere which passed the Janesville DQ.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From shy teen to confident artist, entertainer & business woman August 21, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:29 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Jodi Gustafson of Big Shoe Entertainment begins transforming young Owen’s face into a Ghost Rider’s skull mask at the recent Blue Collar BBQ & Arts Fest in Faribault.

IMAGINING 37-YEAR-OLD JODI GUSTAFSON—also known as Lollipop the Clown, Jenius Strangeways or the proprietor of Big Shoe Entertainment and Jodelle’s Finery—as a once shy teen weaving down the hallways of Richfield and Coon Rapids high schools seems an impossibility.

But this vivacious and confident small business owner, whom I met at the recent Blue Collar BBQ & Arts Fest in Faribault where she was transforming faces through her stunning full face painting, reveals an adolescent timidness that contradicts her very public professions.

“I hated being shy,” said Gustafson, who recalls turning red if anyone so much as said “hi” to her. Determined to overcome that shyness, she eventually, and purposefully, chose a job with the United Way which involved public speaking.

“I knew I would never change if I didn’t get out of my comfort zone.”

That decision proved pivotal for Gustafson when a company wanted a carnival theme for its campaign but couldn’t afford to hire a clown. Gustafson volunteered, thinking clowning couldn’t be all that difficult. She was wrong, but continued anyway with the clowning which led to painting cheek art and then, with the encouragement of Cindy Trusty of Cindy’s Creative Celebrations, to full face painting and finally the official formation of Big Shoe Entertainment in the early 2000s.

Owen’s half-mask skull evolves under Gustafson’s skillful hands. She contracts her work for community and private events (such as birthday parties) and with corporations (such as for company picnics).

Today this mother of three (ages three to 17) operates two successful small businesses from her Bloomington home. Big Shoe Entertainment, encompassing clowning, balloon twisting, airbrushed and glitter tattoos, henna and crazy hair, but primarily full face painting, keeps her crazy busy, especially during the summer, with gigs throughout Minnesota, Iowa and Wisconsin. The pace slows during the other seasons.

An assortment of the make-up, all with FDA-approved ingredients and meant to be used on the body and face, which Gustafson uses for face painting.

In anywhere from one to five minutes Gustafson, with brushes and make-up pads and an array of colorful make-up, can transform a face into a work of art. She’s morphed five billion faces, she exaggerates, into butterflies, and also creates lots of flowers and princesses, and masks such as skull, dragon and Mardi Gras.

She especially enjoys painting “gore” faces, but seldom has the opportunity.

Owen sits perfectly still as Gustafson paints. Some kids squirm or won’t close their eyes, meaning she sometimes needs to adjust her work to eliminate painting around the eyes or needs to explain step by step what she is doing. Typically, Gustafson doesn’t talk while painting faces.

She’s always learning—from videos, books, classes and practice. That practice includes painting designs all over her arms and legs while relaxing at home in front of the television. Gustafson puts her own spin on existing patterns via color choices and painting style, defining her work as her own in a profession that’s becoming more saturated. Yet, most are not at her level of expertise, she says, in an honest, but not boastful, way.

Gustafson works with two agents and occasionally hires independent contractors to assist at events where she can’t handle the volume solo. She’s picky, though, and chooses only the best artists.

American Family Insurance of Faribault sponsored free full face painting by Gustafson at the recent Blue Collar BBQ & Arts Fest. Lines were long. Gustafson painted for five hours, averaging 20 – 25 faces per hour. If she returns next year, she’ll bring another painter, she says, to shorten those lines.

All of this is interesting given Gustafson early on was intimidated by full face painting. Clearly she’s not anymore as she works with the swiftness and assurance of a skilled artist. She always had an interest in art, she says, but not the confidence. She took art classes in high school and moved on to painting still lifes in acrylic on canvas, something she has no time for now.

Besides mothering and operating Big Shoe Entertainment, Gustafson also owns Jodelle’s Finery, specializing in Renaissance and Victorian “garb.” That’s her term, “garb,” referencing the durable period clothing she fashions, as opposed to “costumes,” for the Minnesota Renaissance Festival and steam punk events. (Steam punk fashion, since I didn’t know and perhaps you don’t either, is Victorian clothing with a technological, sci-fi twist.)

Even Jodelle’s Finery, in typical Gustafson fashion, has an interesting beginning. When pregnant with her middle child, Gustafson was feeling quite domestic and taught herself to sew. Her first project was a baby quilt. Today she’s advanced to sewing that garb for others and for her role as the street performer Jenius Strangeways at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival.

Yes, this once shy teen morphed into an actress too—role playing at the Renaissance and on the stages of community theaters in Faribault (where she lived until moving to Bloomington in June), Owatonna and Northfield.

“I don’t like to be still,” claims Gustafson, who before she took on the Renaissance acting gig two years ago, worked in shops at the Minnesota festival.

Owen’s skull face mask is almost done.

Yet, in the middle of all that public busyness of painting faces and clowning and acting, Gustafson says she still occasionally slips back in to the quiet, nervous and shy Jodi of years past. That happens, she explains, if she’s not role-playing and doesn’t know anyone at an event she’s working.

Mostly, though, she’s made a choice to get past her shyness, to be the strong and confident woman who paints faces, entertains and clothes entertainers via her two successful businesses.

Owen opens his eyes for the great reveal.

FYI: Jodi Gustafson doesn’t have a website for Big Shoe Entertainment, so don’t bother trying to find one. You may contact her via email at gusjodi@gmail.com or call her at (952) 215-4544. You can also check out her Jodelle’s Finery Facebook page by clicking here.

I initially developed this post idea to showcase Gustafson’s full face painting because I was so impressed by her work. But when I interviewed her about a week later and learned how she overcame her shyness, that became the real story. I hope you will be inspired, as I am, by Gustafson’s determination to overcome an obstacle, change and pursue her passions in life as her professions.

Gustafson transformed Isaac into a tiger at the Faribault festival.

Isabella, 7, of Faribault, became a dalmatian under Gustafson’s crafting. Butterflies and dalmatians proved the most popular paintings chosen by attendees at the Faribault fest.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My thoughts written on day two as an empty nester August 20, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:57 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,

“YOU SHOULD CARRY ME across the threshold,” I suggested as I waited on the back stoop for him to unlock the door.

He inserted the key into the lock, then turned and looked at me. “It’s like starting over, isn’t it?”

And so a new phase begins in our lives. At this precise moment I am not embracing it, this becoming an empty nester after 26 ½ years of children under our roof.

I am sad and tired and exhausted from lack of sleep and am a bit of an emotional mess. How did my husband and I, 30 years married, arrive, snap, just like that, at this point of coming full circle back to only the two of us?

The son, moving into his dorm room at North Dakota State University.

Saturday morning we delivered our 18-year-old and his van full of belongings to the second floor of Johnson Hall at North Dakota State University in Fargo. (Or, more accurately, the energetic NDSU move-in crew carried everything from the lawn, down the sidewalk, up the stairs and to our son’s corner room at the tunnel end of a hallway.)

Leaving Fargo late Saturday morning, 285 miles from our Faribault home.

As cliché as it sounds, this truly marked for me a bittersweet moment of mixed emotions—realizing I’d done my part to raise our boy and now I had to trust him to make it on his own in a town, at a school,  5 ½ hours away.

I don’t care how many children you’ve left at college—and I’ve already seen my daughters, 26 and 24, through four years of post-secondary education and entry into the workforce—it is not easy to leave your kids, these children you’ve nourished and loved and held and cherished for 18 years. Not easy at all.

I’ve even been known to say, “I should have locked you kids in the basement and not let you go anywhere.”

Of course, I don’t mean that. I wouldn’t want any of my children to feel afraid or insecure or unable to set out on their own because I selfishly desired to keep them close. I have raised them to be strong, independent, venturesome adults.

When my eldest announced during her first semester of college that she would be going on a mission trip to Paraguay during spring break, I may have used that “should have locked you in the basement” phrase in the same breath as asking, “Where the heck is Paraguay?”

Then when her sister, several years later, said that she would be studying abroad in Argentina for fall semester, I muttered, “…should have locked you in the basement.”

When the son decided to join his high school Spanish class on a spring break trip to Spain, I mumbled to myself “…locked you in the basement.”

Humor helps when you are parenting, in those times when you don’t want your child to realize just how difficult it is to let go. I doubt, though, that I’ve ever totally fooled my three.

I am proud of myself, though, for never leaving a college dorm room in tears. I can be strong when I need to be, when my child needs me to be.

But I cried twice in the weeks before the son’s college departure date and he assured me, “Mom, it’s OK to be sad.” He was right.

My sons’ empty bed, which caused me to break down upon my arrival home Sunday afternoon.

And then I cried on Sunday, upon our arrival home from that weekend journey to Fargo. I walked into my boy’s upstairs bedroom and saw the rumpled sheets, his matted white teddy bear…and reality struck me. He’s gone.

I walked downstairs, told my husband I’d had my sad moment. Then I broke down and cried, deep wrenching sobs, and Randy wrapped his arms around me and held me.

Perhaps tomorrow he will carry me across the threshold.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The comfortable familiarity of Freedom August 19, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:09 PM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

IF YOU’VE EVER STEPPED inside a building and felt like you’d been there before, but you haven’t, then you can relate to the story I am about to share in photos and conversation. Come on. Let’s open the door and enter Immanuel Lutheran Church, Freedom Township, rural Janesville.

Ah, the double front doors are locked. We’ll try the side door. Good, it’s open. I wonder if there’s an alarm system. I don’t want the Waseca County Sheriff showing up. Let’s go up the stairs to the main level.

Now where are the light switches? Oh, right there next to the guest register. I like that old light by the guest book. Wonder if it works? Nope. Sorry, almost anything can distract me.

Even with the lights on, it’s kind of dark in here. Maybe we should open the shades. There, that’s better.

That altar and Jesus statue look familiar. They remind me of the altar and statue in St. John’s Lutheran Church, Vesta, the church where I grew up. And isn’t that organ a beauty?

I wonder if there’s a nice wood floor under that carpet. And what’s hiding under all those ceiling tiles?

Well, instead of standing here wondering, we better keep moving along if we’re going to get to the mission festival at Marquardt’s Grove by 10:30. I have much to see yet and photograph.

But wait a minute, what’s that over there on that post? An old thermometer. Huh, wonder how long that’s been here?

Alright, let’s head upstairs and see what’s in the balcony. It’s kind of tempting to pull that bell rope, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’ve never given in to such temptation.

But I will move that wastebasket and stack of Vacation Bible School supplies so I can photograph that time-worn bench. Need to let a little natural light in, though, so I’ll pull up the shades. That’s better.

Oh, my goodness, look at those stars on that attendance sheet. I haven’t thought about those shiny, sticky stars in decades. I remember when my Sunday School teacher awarded stars for attendance. I thought they were the greatest thing. The memories…

Time to head down to the basement after I take a few more pictures up here. Yes, I have got a good grip on my camera. I don’t want it tumbling over the balcony railing.

Now, down to the basement we go. I need to pause here for a minute and take it all in.

Those curtains—see those curtains there—St. John’s had those in the basement, too. The curtains divided the basement into classrooms for Sunday School. I didn’t know churches still used those. I can almost hear the grating sound of those curtains closing and opening and remember how we kids had to take turns pulling the fabric closed, then open, at the end of Sunday School. Sweet memories…

Well, I better stop reminiscing because it’s after 10 a.m. and we do need to get to that worship service down the road in the cow pasture.

But, wait, I see one more thing I need to photograph…those lambs representing baptized children…

FYI: Immanuel Lutheran Church, commonly known as Freedom Church because of its location in Freedom Township, is located along Waseca County Road 3 about nine miles south of Janesville. Founded in 1874, this Lutheran Church Missouri Synod congregation has a total baptized and communicant membership of 114.

The organ in the church, interestingly enough, came from Trinity Lutheran Church in Faribault where I have been a member for 30 years. When Trinity upgraded to another organ in 1911, the old organ was moved on a sled pulled by oxen some 40 miles to Freedom Church.

Freedom Church is not typically unlocked, but was open on the Sunday of my visit so members could leave food in the church basement for the mission festival potluck, according to member Joan Quiram. A big thank you to Joan for inviting me to the annual mission festival of Freedom and Wilton churches. You can read and view photos of that event by clicking here and then here.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The bride wore a white silk organza gown August 17, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:01 AM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A newspaper account of my aunt and uncle’s wedding 50 years ago is tacked onto a tree at their recent anniversary party.

The bride was escorted to the altar by her father. Her gown of white silk organza with chapel train had a row of satin bows down one side of the skirt. Her veil was attached to a small pearl crown and she carried a bouquet of white roses, pompons and a large aster with ivy.

Her attendants were attired in green faille dresses with attached overskirts and carried cascade arrangements of yellow pompons.

Fifty years have passed since that description from my godmother’s wedding published in The Redwood Falls Gazette. Lovely, isn’t it? Silk and satin and cascading bouquets.

A bridal party photo from Aunt Rae and Uncle Bob’s August 18, 1962, wedding. I’m the flower girl.

I wish I remembered that day, even a moment of it. But I don’t. I was only five, almost six, when my Aunt Rachel married Robert, who would become my Uncle Bob. A black-and-white photograph from August 18, 1962, clearly shows me in my short, pouffy flower girl dress, positioned in front of the groomsmen. I stood all prim and proper, and I assume well-behaved, in my shiny white patent leather shoes and lace-trimmed anklets. My white-gloved hands clench a starched, be-ribboned crocheted lace basket of fresh flowers.

If only I remembered the bespectacled girl who a year earlier wore a patch across her wandering lazy eye and later underwent surgery to correct her vision. But I don’t. Not even the flower girl dress, which my mom saved for 50 years, evokes any memories.

My flower girl dress, minus the petticoats, was hung in the screened porch during the anniversary party.

All of that aside, I thought my Aunt Rae would appreciate seeing the flower girl dress at a recent gathering in south Minneapolis to celebrate her and Uncle Bob’s 50th wedding anniversary. She did, barely believing I still had the dress. Surely she knows her oldest sister, my mom, saves everything, doesn’t she?

But did my aunt save her beautiful white silk organza bridal gown? Much to my dismay and that of a young woman whose middle name is Rachel, no. Rae gave her wedding dress to charity before moving from Minneapolis to her retirement home in Arkansas. I won’t explain the reasons, but suffice to say they are legitimate.

That leads me to wonder, how many of you married women out there still have your wedding dresses? My $80 off-the-rack dress hangs in the back of my bedroom closet. I possess no illusions that either of my daughters will ever want to wear it and that’s just fine by me.

Justin (my cousin) and Amy’s daughter Alison passed around chocolates during the anniversary celebration.

But give it another 20-plus years, and perhaps a family member will read this description of my bridal gown and ask, “Do you still have your wedding dress?”

The bride’s gown was of old fashioned style with stand-up collar, lace ruffling forming a V front neckline, long sheer sleeves and flounce skirt with lace trim. Her veil was held in place by a laurel wreath headpiece of yellow sweetheart roses and baby’s breath.

My beloved Aunt Rachel visits with guests.

Family and friends of Rae and Bob gathered in their daughter’s south Minneapolis backyard on a recent steamy Sunday for a picnic dinner to celebrate 50 years of marriage.

That’s my Uncle Bob, in the middle in the dark shirt, visiting with friends.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The patriotic pride of Harley riders August 16, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:06 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Bikers and others gather for a post hospice ride party at Faribault Harley-Davidson.

LONG GONE, at least in my mind, is the image of Harley riders as rough outlaw types roaring along our roadways, storming into towns, raising hell.

When they travel in a pack now, it’s usually for a purpose, like last Saturday’s fifth annual ride to benefit the Faribault Area Hospice.

While my husband and I missed the ride (he doesn’t have a Harley anymore, his 1977 Sportster being totaled more than a decade ago by a teen who ran a stop sign, plowed into the bike and sent Randy to the hospital), that didn’t keep us from checking out the post ride activities and bikes at Faribault Harley-Davidson.

I’ll be the first to admit that attending a biking event isn’t exactly on the top of my to-do list. But sometimes wives go along for the ride, just like husbands accompany their wives to artsy happenings that they’d probably rather skip.

As always, I carried my camera with hopes that maybe, just maybe, I’d find something worth photographing beyond the rows of bikes I knew Randy would be eying.

The Harley dress code: black leather.

Well, it wasn’t the masses of Harleys which caught my attention, but the details on individual bikes. I hope I didn’t make any of the Harley riders, who can appear intimidating in their black leather, nervous. I threaded my way among the parked bikes, bending, crouching, occasionally setting my camera onto the freshly seal-coated asphalt as I snapped photos.

The unique skull kickstand. Any significance to this skull, readers?

And as I wandered, a picture began to develop of the men and women who ride Harleys, or at least those in attendance at The Ride for Hospice party in Faribault. Except for the skulls on one bike and the boney foot kickstand on another, I found nothing particularly unusual.

The flag on the left honors SPC Mathew Kahler, killed in Afghanistan in 2008.

Rather, I discovered a common theme of patriotism among bikers who have served their country and/or want to honor those serving. It was heart-warming and uplifting to see such support.

One of two blessing stickers I noticed on bikes.

Equally pleasing were stickers I spotted on two bikes indicating they had been blessed. I expect blessings were flowing all around on Saturday as these bikers opened their wallets and their hearts to help hospice, an organization which, at some point, touches nearly all of our lives.

Another patriotically adorned bike and a Vietnam veteran’s jacket along with Ernie from Sesame Street.

Proud to be an American and driving an American made Harley-Davidson.

Patriotic patches seem a popular adornment on Harley attire.

These boots, sitting next to a bike, reminded me of the phrase “boots on the ground” when soldiers hit the ground running.

The yellow flag represents the Minnesota Patriot Guard.

Patriotism displayed, right down to the license plate on this bike.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project in Minnesota and Wisconsin officially kicks off at MOA August 15, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:02 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

TEN MONTHS AGO, Todd Bol, co-founder of the Wisconsin-based Little Free Library, and I were discussing an idea to get Little Free Libraries into small towns without libraries. I wanted a library in my hometown of Vesta, a community of around 340 residents which has never had a library.

I had blogged about a LFL in Faribault, where I have lived for 30 years, and challenged the residents of Vesta to start a LFL.

The LFL Todd and Susan Bol installed outside the community-owned Vesta Cafe.

After making that challenge, Bol and I talked and, several months later, he offered to donate, deliver and install a LFL in Vesta, placing the first library in a new initiative, Little Free Libraries for Small Towns. Bol and his wife, Susan, drove from Hudson, Wisconsin, on July 1 and installed a LFL in front of the Vesta Cafe.

This Friday, August 17, that small towns project officially kicks off with a celebration from noon to 3 p.m. in the Mall of America rotunda near the east entrance. A program featuring activities and also appearances by local celebrities sharing their favorite books is slated for 1 – 2 p.m. Businesses and publishers are donating new books and the public is encouraged to bring books for 20 uniquely designed mini libraries to be placed in Twin Cities’ neighborhoods and communities surrounding the mega mall.

MOA is donating those 20 libraries and two special libraries (numbers 2,509 and 2,510) which will tie and break the records of libraries funded by philanthropist Andrew Carnegie.

How sweet is that? But even sweeter, in my opinion, is the MOA’s general support of the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project as a way “to promote literacy and community-building by supporting neighborhood book exchanges.”

The beautiful handcrafted LFL donated to my hometown of Vesta.

The LFL works on the premise of take a book/leave a book in a little library, which is typically an over-sized birdhouse size structure attached to a post and installed outdoors, making books accessible to the public 24/7.

In kicking off its Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project, the LFL non-profit aims to focus first on the small towns of Minnesota and Wisconsin without ready access to public libraries, like my hometown of Vesta on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. The closest libraries to Vesta are about 20 miles away. Earlier this year bookmobile service to my hometown and several other communities was cut by Redwood County commissioners to save money.

I expect that many other small towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin are in similar positions, without library services because a) they’ve never had libraries or b) funding has been cut or trimmed.

Living in or near a town without a library, as I did growing up, is a hardship for someone like me who loves to read. That’s why I was adamant in my discussion last fall with LFL co-founder Bol that he focus on small towns without libraries. He liked the idea—Bol is very much an energetic ideas man—and he eventually shaped our discussion, with the help of his equally enthusiastic staff, into the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project.

Bol thinks big. The LFL group is initially seeking 20 sponsors to each facilitate 20 Little Free Libraries for small towns across Minnesota and Wisconsin, resulting in 400 new free libraries. A $600 contribution supports construction, delivery and installation of one LFL to a small town and a starter collection of books as well as official LFL registration and promotion, and a plaque on the sponsored library.

Beyond all of that, the real satisfaction, I think, comes in the reaction of those communities which benefit from such generosity. My hometown has embraced the LFL with a level of enthusiasm beyond anything I ever expected.

The team that worked to bring a Little Free Library to Vesta includes Dorothy Marquardt, left, and Karen Lemcke, representing the sponsoring Vesta Commercial Club, LFL co-founder Todd Bol and me (holding a copy of a poetry anthology I donated and in which I have two poems, “A school without a library” and “Saturday night baths”).

Karen Lemcke, who early on supported the LFL as a member of the Vesta Commercial Club and is now the Vesta library steward, shared several weeks ago that Vesta’s LFL is a “very successful project.”

She then went on to explain that area residents are taking books from the outdoor LFL and that two bookshelves inside the Vesta Cafe have also been filled with donated books. Says Lemcke:

We have a variety of books from non-fiction, fiction and children’s books. On Sunday, children had taken some of the books and sat on a couch nearby looking through them. I heard today that tractor books were on a shelf and local farmers were borrowing them overnight to look through. The women have been going through the books as well and they will be picking up some to read, too…It’s like it (LFL) brought a “little life” to Vesta.

If you are thinking that Karen’s report brought tears to my eyes, you would be right. To hear that farmers are pulling tractor books from shelves to take home, especially, pleases me. And kids paging through books…

The books Todd Bol and I placed inside Vesta’s LFL on July 1. He brought books donated by several Twin Cities publishers and I brought books from my personal collection. I have since collected and donated an additional 40 books.  A retired librarian from nearby Wabasso donated eight bags of books, primarily mysteries, and the cafe manager’s family also donated books and I expect others have given books, too.

With this new LFL for Small Towns project, just consider for a moment how many more scenarios like this can happen in small towns without libraries. What a gift to bring books to the residents of small towns and enhance or instill a love of reading.

The LFL organization is now accepting applications from communities which would like to be considered for the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project. Applicants from Minnesota and Wisconsin need only complete a short questionnaire requesting information such as the town’s population, whether it has a public library and how a LFL would make a difference in their community.

LFLs will be awarded based on available sponsorships and contributions and the need and interest level of the applicant communities, among other criteria.

So…if your small Minnesota or Wisconsin town needs a library, believe. It can happen. My conversation with the co-founder of the Little Free Library resulted in the donation of a library and a starter collection of books to my hometown…and the launch of the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project.

The Little Free Library at the Vesta Cafe on the one-block Main Street in my hometown is the seed plant of the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns project.

FYI: For more information about the LFL program, click here to reach the website. To learn more about  the Little Free Libraries for Small Towns initiative and to download an application, click here.  Applications will also be available at the MOA-LFL event on Friday, to which I’ve been invited but will be unable to attend.

If you or your business or organization is interested in sponsoring a library or libraries for the small towns initiative in Minnesota or Wisconsin, email Megan Hanson at mphanson@littlefreelibrary.org.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, the interesting topics you’ll find in small town newspapers…of bullets, burgers & babies… August 14, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:51 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,

SMALL TOWN NEWSPAPERS make for some interesting reading. Stories can get downright personal and to the point.

For example, I found a gem last week online at The Redwood Falls Gazette, a twice-a-week newspaper published in Redwood County in southwestern Minnesota. It’s the newspaper I grew up reading.

The Redwood Falls Gazette editor Troy Krause, right, interviews Todd Bol, co-founder of the Little Free Library in Vesta in early July. Bol gave a LFL to my hometown and installed it at the Vesta Cafe.

In the “Backward Glance” section of the newspaper, under 1987—25 years ago, this tidbit of information was published:

In the listings of the Redwood County 4-H county fair champions, Troy Krause of the Loyal Scotties was overall grand champion in flower gardens, while Kelly Zwaschka of the Vesta Vikings won champion child development.

(Note: Troy is editor of the Redwood Gazette, while wife Kelly gave birth to their seventh child, Gideon, this week. Congrats from the Gazette staff!)

How’s that for a birth announcement? Obviously Kelly’s interest in child development, even as a 4-Her, was a clear indicator of her future. As for Todd, I believe flower gardening could be connected to creativity/writing.

You’ll also find a brief about a game warden, shot through the head in 1937 by another game warden who mistook him for a bear. That’s listed in the 50 years ago section of “Backward Glances.” So, yes, apparently Merle Shields survived the incident as he was celebrating his 20th year as a Redwood County game warden in 1962. (BTW, since writing this post, I discovered that The Gazette has upgraded its website and the “Backward Glance” I reference here cannot be found, or I couldn’t find it.)

The third piece of interest was published in last week’s The Gaylord Hub, where I worked for two years as a news reporter and photographer right out of college. Avery Grochow, past president of The Gaylord Chamber of Commerce, penned a letter to the editor which I am certain is the current coffee shop talk of Gaylord.

I’ll summarize parts of his lengthy, six-paragraph letter and quote directly when needed. Grochow begins:

We, as the chamber board, are constantly trying to do our best for our community and are constantly being criticized by some for our decisions.

Apparently locals were grumbling about the food—who supplied it and how it tasted—at the community’s annual Eggstravaganza summer festival. New volunteers, replaced Dewey (whoever that is; my words here, not Avery’s), who “wanted a year off from all the arguments.” They stepped up and worked through a new bidding process for the supplies, awarding the bid to the lowest bidder.

Grochow continues:

We have had comments both ways about the supplying of hamburger. Some have criticized us in the past because the hamburger was too spicy, that they would rather have plain burgers, and we are now being criticized that we are having plain burgers and not spiced burgers.

No matter what we do as volunteers and directors for the Chamber, we can’t please everyone…We did what we thought was fair to everyone by taking bids on everything and stand by our decision.

Now, just imagine how difficult it must have been for Grochow to write this letter. Not an easy thing to do when you live in a small town like Gaylord where everyone’s lives are intertwined.

I give Grochow credit for having the guts to publicly voice his opinion in print. He doesn’t just vent, though. He offers a solution. And therein lies the point best taken by those who read his letter.

…if anyone has better ideas for us, we still are short of directors and could use all the help we can get to make our Chamber even more successful. We also have openings on the board so you can be part of the decision making, instead of just always making bad comments because you don’t like what we did. Remember, we, as the Chamber Board of Directors, are just volunteers trying to make Gaylord a better place to live and hopefully to have a great celebration.

Those closing remarks are words we could all heed because I expect you, like me, are guilty of occasional grumbling and complaining.

 

Carv-Fest brings together novices to pros in Faribault August 13, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:06 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I WONDER WHAT THE ODDS ARE, that a community of some 22,000 would be home to two internationally-known, award-winning woodcarvers.

That would be Faribault. And they would be Marvin Kaisersatt and Ivan Whillock.

Woodcarvers, from novice to pros, participated in Carv-Fest 2012. Here are students and instructors in a Saturday morning session.

The carvings of these two gifted Minnesota artists, and gifted doesn’t even seem to begin to fit their talent, were among art displayed at the August 9 – 11 Carv-Fest 2012 which drew woodcarvers, from beginners to seasoned carvers, to Faribault.

The intricate chip carving of Marty Leenhouts of Garden City, Minnesota.

It may be summer, but Santa showed up in a woodcarving and classes at the festival.

Imagine if this had been a hand instead of a glove…

I roamed the fest on Saturday, seriously impressed by the intent concentration of the attending woodcarvers, the intricacies of the carvings, the variety of art created and the fearlessness in putting sharp tools to wood. No wonder they wear gloves.

Marv Kaisersatt sketched out the character he was teaching his students to carve on Saturday.

I didn’t know any of the carvers, except Marv, whom I interviewed in 2009 for a short magazine article which certainly should have been much longer had space allowed. He impressed me then for the simple life he lives in an upstairs apartment in downtown Faribault, carving caricatures. I can’t even describe talent of his level. But I can describe a man who is humble and funny, engaging and content with the creative process of sketching, shaping clay models and carving.

This retired math teacher also impressed me in that interview with the fact that he doesn’t sell his woodcarvings, choosing instead to occasionally donate his caricatures, carved from blocks of basswood, to nonprofit fundraisers.

Marv Kaisersatt assists a student in his class.

On Saturday, Marv circulated among his students, advising them on carving a Minnesotan (I presume) dressed for winter in stocking cap and chopper mittens, oversized boots weighing down his feet.

Marv gave me a polite nod and then it was all business teaching the students lucky enough to learn under his guidance.

A snippet of Ivan Whillock’s incredible, detailed and realistic carving.

Whillock, whose woodcarvings are the polar opposite of Marv’s work, wasn’t teaching. But given his woodcarving family organizes Carv-Fest, I expect he had more than enough to keep him busy. He carves religious and secular sculptures and reliefs, works of art that grace places like churches (including mine, Trinity Lutheran) and libraries (including Buckham Memorial Library in Faribault).

Whillock and his family are the key organizers of Carv-Fest which draws woodcarvers from all over.

A stunning, three-dimensional carving by Ivan Whillock.

Both men teach at Ivan Whillock Studio. They’ve written books and created patterns and developed an appreciative following of admirers across the world.

And if you saw their work, you would understand why they are so beloved among woodcarvers and those of us who wouldn’t dare pick up a knife for fear of slicing away a fingertip.

A carver brought his handcarved toolbox to a class on Saturday morning.

Just another example of the woodcarvings on display during the festival.

These students were hammering and chiseling away during a class, making quite a racket in the ice arena/fest site.

The step-by-step process to woodburn a wolf as taught by Nancy Dardis of  Dardis Designs, Bloomington.

A pheasant in wood, foreground, and students in class, background.

Learning the art of chip carving.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling